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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886462">The Day a Snowflake Landed in Hell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/violent_ends/pseuds/violent_ends'>violent_ends</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Background Chloe Decker, Comedy, Crack, Demons, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Funny, Gen, Hell, Humor, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) Needs A Hug, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Post-Lucifer (TV) Season/Series 04, Post-Season/Series 04, Soft Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:48:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886462</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/violent_ends/pseuds/violent_ends</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“We’ve never even <i>been</i> together, you know?” he would mope, trying and failing to get drunk on whatever kind of intoxicating liquid he had managed to steal from a loop. “And believe me, I offered many, <i>many</i> times! But the Detective, oh, she is a stubborn one! ‘When Hell freezes over, Lucifer,’ she told me once! The bloody <i>nerve</i> of her.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV) &amp; Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>76</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>339</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Day a Snowflake Landed in Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This works as a sequel to my fic <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23790130">Happy Detective Day!</a>, but can also be read on its own. You just need to know that our narrator Saleos is a pacifist demon who rides a crocodile (I swear, it’s an actual thing) and that in the other story Lucifer sent him to deliver a present to Chloe, turning him into a Deckerstar fanboy 😂</p>
<p>Happy Season 6 announcement, everyone! Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been one Earth-week since Lord Lucifer left Hell, and Saleos can admit that his absence weighs heavy and thick like a fog in the air of the Underworld. It was so easy to get used to him again, to fall back into the rhythm of what Hell used to be before <em>some</em> demons decided to cause mayhem and unrest.<br/><br/>The way Saleos sees it, they all could have functioned just as easily without His Majesty, but when those few got into their heads that they could disobey his no-possession policy without any consequences, well, it was a slippery slope. And that was why, for a time, Hell got its King back. But at what cost?<br/><br/>Not that Lord Lucifer was ever <em>particularly</em> happy, mind. Heaven’s Fallen was fury personified when he first landed; his cry of anger and agony that day shook the stone pillars of Hell all the way to their foundations, made even the bravest of the Lilim tremble where they stood. And then, in time, there were his visits to the mortal world, all destined to end the same way: with His Infernal Highness battered and bruised, his temper frail at the slightest hint of disobedience, the fire in his eyes so bright they could glimpse it even from below as his great white wings carried him across the cloudy skies of his kingdom.<br/><br/>But this time, when he got back from his long, long holiday, it was different. <em>He</em> was different. The human world had changed him, softened his edges, seeped into his bones. And there were humans, <em>specific</em> humans, on his mind and in his heart, constantly.<br/><br/>So it was that Saleos, ever faithful, was sent to deliver gifts to one of them, the most special, the most important: Detective Chloe Decker. After that first time and his resounding success, it became his main mission and task: more flowers, more chocolates, then jewelry and dresses for her to wear so Saleos could take a photograph with the phone he originally bought (power sockets inside the loops do work, imagine that) and show it to His Highness upon his return from Earth.<br/><br/>Then it was letters. Scrolls and scrolls of written words Lord Lucifer entrusted to him, and that Saleos delivered cheerfully; same for the responses Chloe Decker would write back. But it was then that the whole thing took an unexpected turn. It was then that Lord Lucifer became… sadder, instead of happier.<br/><br/>It was then that Lord Lucifer started to… share… stuff.<br/><br/>“We’ve never even <em>been</em> together, you know?” he would mope, trying and failing to get drunk on whatever kind of intoxicating liquid he had managed to steal from a loop. “And believe me, I offered many, <em>many</em> times! But the Detective, oh, she is a stubborn one! ‘When Hell freezes over, Lucifer,’ she told me once! The bloody <em>nerve</em> of her.”<br/><br/>He would try to act as if he was angry with her, but truth be told, Saleos never fell for it. Even in those seemingly harsh words, full of longing and regret, it always felt as if His Majesty was almost proud of the mortal woman for making it so difficult. A first for him, to be sure: during all his shorter visits, the King’s lust had always been satisfied, for no human had ever been able to resist his charms.<br/><br/>“And then on that beach, I told her all the reasons she <em>shouldn’t</em>, and what did she do? She–she kissed me! And I just… I couldn’t. I stalled. I blew my chance and then it all went to <em>Hell</em>, though not quite literally. Oh, no, that came <em>much</em> later.”<br/><br/>Saleos remembers shifting from foot to foot in front of the Infernal Throne, the smaller one used for holding court and giving orders. He wasn’t really expecting all <em>that</em> when he came in.<br/><br/>“So, uh… Brazen Bull or Iron Maiden for Door #24872? It’s been quite the conundrum, Your Majesty. We just can’t make up our minds on what torture method we should try next.”<br/><br/>In that moment, Lord Lucifer sighed tiredly, making him feel bad for interrupting.<br/><br/>“Have you tried the Pear of Anguish yet?” the King suggested with a vague wave of his hand while sitting sideways on the imposing chair, alcohol spilling from his chalice, and Saleos brightened.<br/><br/>“No, my Lord! What a wonderful idea! We will definitely do that.” But instead of turning to leave right away, he tentatively took a step closer. “Are you… are you alright, my Lord?”<br/><br/>“I just <em>miss</em> her, is all,” was the immediate reply, as if all His Highness needed was that bit of interest to keep going. “Look at me, Saleos! The bloody Devil, pining like a rejected schoolgirl left without a date for the prom! What <em>has</em> this woman done to me?!”<br/><br/><em>What indeed</em>, Saleos thought to himself. Was the Detective some sort of witch? Was this a spell, a curse? But no, he had met the mortal, and she had seemed quite lovely. The human-looking monkey living in her house slightly <em>less</em> so, but that’s children for you.<br/><br/><em>This must be what love does to people</em>, he realized that day. Even now, he’s not sure he gets <em>why</em> humans go through the trouble of falling in love if all it causes is pain (Hell is full of broken hearts, unsurprisingly), but regardless, such was the mortal disease his King had been infected with.<br/><br/>Question: what to do to help?<br/><br/>Well… the only thing to be done, really.<br/><br/>“I have been talking with the other Lilim, Your Majesty,” Saleos told His Infernal Highness some time later. “We have all noticed you seem… different, and we'd like to do something about it.”<br/><br/>Not that surprisingly, Lord Lucifer’s first thought was a new rebellion. Demons and their bad rap – Saleos really does his best to fight stereotypes, but sadly they still have a long way to go.<br/><br/>“Do not mistake ‘different’ for ‘weaker’, Saleos; I thought it was a lesson you and your kind learned well by now,” was the King’s cold, calculated reply, feathers rippling and turning razor-sharp behind him.<br/><br/>“No, no, no, my Lord, you misunderstand me!” Saleos rushed to clarify. “We just… you are our King, and we want you to be happy. All those who disobeyed you – you know they have been dismembered or forced into submission. The rest of us, we mean you no harm. On the contrary… we think you should go back to the mortal world you miss so much. We will take care of everything for you!”<br/><br/>There was shock on Lord Lucifer’s face then, but it quickly turned to suspicion when he asked, “Is this a trick?”<br/><br/>To prove to him that it was not, Saleos performed the same oath he took when he first traveled to Earth for Detective Day, slashing his palm open with one of his curved blades to solemnly vow that it was true; in the name of Lilim, Mother of Demons, and may Hell swallow him whole if it was a lie.<br/><br/>Arrangements were quickly made: “I will still come back every once in a while to check on you lot,” Lord Lucifer announced, because technically, only an angel could rule Hell, so it wasn’t like he could just leave them to govern themselves without oversight. The King selected a small group of Lilim, the ones he trusted the most, to keep the others in line, and of course Saleos – his favored emissary and confidant – was among them.<br/><br/>The day His Infernal Highness departed from Hell once again was bittersweet: despite his genuine intentions, Saleos couldn’t help but think, <em>Are we really not enough for you?</em>. But then, he reminded himself that Lord Lucifer is no demon, and that torture is not his only purpose in life. Don’t ever say it to their faces, but angels – both fallen and Heaven-dwelling – are more similar to humans than they’d like to admit, and simply do not thrive in the darkness. At best, they adapt.<br/><br/>But the day Lord Lucifer left the Underworld, his feathers shone so bright it almost felt like the sun itself had decided to grace them with its presence; the kind of light Saleos only knows from loops and his short trips to the world above. And when he took flight, shooting upward from the ground, he left a beacon in his wake, Lightbringer through and through.<br/><br/>Light left with him, of course; but the memory of it, Saleos is sure will stay.<br/><br/>It’s been one Earth-week now (a rough guess – he got better at counting once he started traveling back and forth more regularly), and Saleos is on his way to putting his torture tools back in the chamber where they’re kept, a storage room in the massive stone structure adjacent to the Infernal Palace. Right next to his hellish crocodile (the creature’s flesh as rotten as his own), Adrammelech is riding his equally demonic-looking peacock – which in all fairness is not really a fearsome thing, but then again Adrammelech isn’t either.<br/><br/>“I just don’t understand,” he’s complaining, waving emphatically in the air as his other hand holds the reins of his feathered mount. “I even cut down on the leather, like he said! Made him all those modern suits to wear, and he didn’t even take one topside with him! You think you know someone, and yet.”<br/><br/>Saleos rolls his eyes, making sure to go unnoticed. As supervisor of the King’s wardrobe, Adrammelech has taken His Majesty's departure harder than most, and has been whining about his lack of recognition ever since.<br/><br/>“I think His Highness prefers his human tailors, that’s all,” he tries to comfort the other demon, rearranging the satchel containing his tools a little higher over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t take it personally if I were you. You did your best with what you had.”<br/><br/>“Don’t take it personally, he says!” Adrammelech shoots back mockingly. “Of course! He always had a soft spot for you, what would <em>you</em> have to complain? Satan’s boy, that’s what you are!”<br/><br/>“Oh, shut that hole, will you? You’re just jealous!”<br/><br/>“Jealous?” Adrammelech laughs, high-pitched and cruel. “Of what, being sent to Earth to deliver <em>flowers</em> to a human? No, thanks. <em>I</em> was the official tailor of Lord Lucifer the Morning Star, the King of Hell himself! There is nothing I could ever be jea…lous…of.”<br/><br/>He slows over the last words, so Saleos turns to look at him and find out why. Pulling at the reins, he makes his crocodile stop to peer at what just landed on Adrammelech's palm, as the demon in question stares at it intently.<br/><br/>“Is that a… snowflake?” Saleos asks, puzzled.<br/><br/>“I… think so, yes,” the other confirms, looking just as confused. No snow ever falls in Hell: the only thing fluttering and twirling down from the sky is ash. Hell has no sun, no rain, no day, no night. Hell has no summer or winter – Hell has no <em>seasons</em>.<br/><br/>Maybe the snowflake flew out of a loop door, Saleos thinks initially; one whose setting is a cold one. But then, others start landing on them and their rides, slowly but steadily increasing in number. When he looks up, he can clearly see that they’re coming from the sky of Hell itself, not from any of its cells. Even the temperature of the air seems to be getting lower and lower, a chill settling into his immortal bones and withered flesh; and on the rocks and columns surrounding them, a thin layer of ice is beginning to form.<br/><br/>And then, finally, it hits him. <em>‘When Hell freezes over,’ she told me once!</em><br/><br/>“I know what’s happening,” he whispers to himself, then exclaims loudly, “Adrammelech, I know what’s happening!”<br/><br/>“Great, would you mind <em>telling</em> me, then?”<br/><br/>“It’s His Majesty! Well, the Detective and His Majesty, that is! They are <em>finally</em> real!”<br/><br/>“I am not sure I'm following.”<br/><br/>“Ugh, of course you’re not.” Saleos snatches the whip attached to his belt and hits his crocodile's side with it. “Quick, to the Palace! We must announce this immediately!”<br/><br/>“Announce what?!” Adrammelech yelps as he scrambles to follow, encouraging his peacock the same way until the creature, leaner and lighter, eventually catches up to him.<br/><br/>“Isn’t it obvious?” Saleos laughs, as joyful as he would feel at the prospect of a brand new soul arriving at the Infernal Gates. “Hell has a Queen now!”<br/><br/>His explanation given, he rides faster, eager to call the whole demonic court to spread the message. After all his trips, after all those gifts, after all this time! It’s a shame Detective Chloe Decker is human, and as such cannot enter Hell alive, otherwise Saleos would throw a big celebration in her name. Well, maybe he could regardless. He should ask His Majesty next time he drops by.<br/><br/>Either way, the King of the Underworld is happy; and Hell, Saleos finds, is much prettier all covered in white.</p>

<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>~❄~</p>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>Meanwhile on planet Earth-666, in the city of Los Angeles, California, USA…<br/><br/>“Oh, <em>Lucifer!</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>P.S. Adrammelech being “supervisor of Satan’s wardrobe” is <i>also</i> a thing, because apparently Hell is much funnier than I thought. What’s a tailor demon gotta do? 😂 Hope this made you smile, and thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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